Storybook Lunch

On my lunch hour recently, I took a book I have borrowed to the creek side area near my office in hopes of reading more than two pages before I had to put it down. I have mostly listened to books in the past year as I spend enough time in my car that I can whip through those fairly quickly. Sitting down to read is much more challenging.

I found a secluded spot in the grass next to the very full creek engorged still with spring rains and runoff of winter snows from the mountains.
As I sat reading my book, a brilliant blue dragonfly landed on my left forearm. It’s wings folded back over it’s tiny body as it just sat there. I wanted to grab my phone and snatch a photo, but I knew that even the most gentle release from holding the book would cause my muscles to move and my little friend would be gone. So I just sat there and studied the small body, the large eyes, and those wings stacked next to each other. The lace-like beauty of the wings with an intricate pattern that reminded me of a geisha girl with an intricate fan that she could just flick open and show her admirers.
It showed no signs of taking off, So I decided I would try for my phone to snap a pic. I didn’t even fully let go of the book with my opposite hand before my previous instinct was proven correct and it flew away.

I went back to reading and before long, the blue beauty returned and landed on my other forearm. This time I just smiled and admired it until it again decided to move on once more.
I was reading The Lost City of Z about the expeditions into the Amazon jungle and felt thankful that I was being visited by this little creature and not the blood thirsty invasive insects that I was reading about.
I soon was thinking about my little space with the tall grasses and rushing creek and how serene non threatening it was.
As I sat the book down to just enjoy the time left in my lunch hour, I noticed a momma duck headed upstream with her crew of little ones behind her.

They was nearly directly in front of me before she seems to spot me and move slightly further away deeper into the current as they passed on by. It was much swifter even the foot or so further out that they ventured and the last little duckling was praddling furiously to keep up and I just had to imagine his little mind groaning “was this really necessary?”

As they moved past me upstream, the Momma stopped and the babies kept going a few more feet past her and settled into a submerged grassy patch that would normally have been part of the dry bank had the stream not been so full. The Mom did not look at me, but was treading water as she was hovering half way between where I sat and her babies played in the shallows. She would look at the ducklings and then look upstream ignoring me and look again back at the babes. I grew curious as to what she was up to when I finally saw two more tiny fluffy ducklings scurrying upstream to catch up with the rest of the family.